All You Need is Love, Luck, and a Broadsword
by dandelion-clocks
Summary: A rogue princess, a big-dreaming girl, a squeamish knight, a tower-bound prince, a farm boy with no money and even less luck, and a druid with personality problems. Evil isn't going to know what hit it. (SSSS Fairytale AU)
1. Chapter 1

**Sigrun**

Rippling gently in the warm wind, something white was dangling from the top window of the castle. The building stood tall and elegant, but something about its dark stone walls and shuttered windows made it seem cold and forbidding.

Sigrun took a deep breath and wrapped a length of the makeshift rope around her arm. The rope was, in fact, made of the best silken sheets in the country knotted tightly together in one long ribbon. Why they had given them to her in the first place Sigrun didn't know. Her criminal record wasn't exactly clean, even if she was a member of the royal family.

She gritted her teeth and transferred her body weight until she was off the window ledge and dangling by the rope. Daring a look down, she gulped and pushed her bare feet further into the folds of silk. Then, inch by inch, Sigrun Eide lowered herself down the wall, hanging forty feet from her possible doom.

When she reached the bottom, she leaped onto the horse she had prepared outside the castle walls, strapped her broadsword into the scabbard slung across her hips and kicked the horse into a gallop. She rode towards the wood without a backward glance.

 **Emil**

Emil Västerström was riding through the dawn-lit forest when he heard the scream.

Being a man of great virtue and even greater pride, he couldn't turn down the plight of a damsel in distress. He gave his dappled grey stallion a kick as best he could wearing bejewelled riding boots, and then they were off, darting between the broad oak trees and ducking under thick swathes of leaves.

Presently, he came into a clearing where the pink sky was framed by pale leaves, and snowdrops grew in a thick carpet. Just as he broke clear of the trees, a stout maiden crashed through a bush on the other side of the clearing and staggered towards him, head turned to look behind her as if she were being chased. And, as it happened, she was. Seconds after the maiden stumbled into the overgrown space, two wolves half the size of Emil's horse burst through the screen of leaves, snarling and baring yellow teeth. The maiden screamed, and set her gaze forward, putting on a spurt of speed. She noticed Emil seconds before she collided with his horse.

"Sir! Help! They'll rip me apart if they catch me! Do something!"

Emil swung awkwardly from his steed and drew his sword after two attempts. He cleared his throat.

"Right. Of course. Do not fear, ma'am."

The wolves, seeing the glint of sunlight on his sword, stopped, growling and lashing their tails. Emil wiped his sweaty left palm across his chainmail tunic. Behind him he could hear the maiden gasping for breath. Still the wolves stood and watched him, eyes flashing, drool dripping from their jaws.

Emil did nothing.

"What are you doing?" the maiden hissed between her teeth. "Kill them, or whatever it is you knights do."

Emil gulped. Sweat made his heavy silk shirt stick to his back, and he was uncomfortably hot.

"Ahem. Yes. About that..."

Even though he had his back to her, he could hear the bite in her voice. "You are a knight, aren't you?"

Emil swallowed again. "Well, technically, yes but I-"

This time the maiden didn't hide her anger.

"Oh for the love of God."

She strode up to him, yanked the sword from his hand and advanced on the wolves, brandishing it with surprising ease. Emil stared, his jaw hanging loose about his collar.

One wolf leapt forward, teeth bared, ready to bite and tear. The maiden swung her sword with such force that the wolf's severed head went flying across the clearing and crashed into the bushes. Emil gagged a little as its body crumpled, fur stained deep red. Seemingly unfazed, the young woman stepped forward, curling her lip.

The other wolf took one look and fled, tail tight between its hind legs.

A smirk spreading across her round face, the maiden turned back to him, wiped the blood off his sword with the hem of her faded yellow dress and said:

"Now that's how you do it. Maybe I could teach you some time, Sir...?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Mikkel**

Mikkel Madsen had been warned about the Southern Woods ever since he'd been a boy. His grandfather had told stories of trolls and beasts and magical creatures that lurked in between the trees, waiting for unwary human prey to stray too far from the path. Although the man had gone stark raving mad a few years later – he'd disappeared into the woods and was never seen again – Mikkel suspected there was some truth in his words. He'd been through the woods long enough to know that they were far from what they seemed.

The tall tales told by his grandfather drifted through the back of his mind as he followed the faded path through the forest, toying with a small money bag absent-mindedly.

He hadn't gotten the amount he'd expected from his goats, but they had raised just enough money for him keep the farm another week. Still, Mikkel furrowed his brow as he walked, unable to keep his financial worries at bay.

His boots clumped against the dry earth in a steady rhythm. He knew this path well and there was no need for him to spare any attention to his route. Yet he couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that someone was watching him.

Dusk was gathering fast, swathing the dim sun in a patchwork blanket of pink and orange and red. Shadows lingered in the gaps between the ancient oaks and pines. Involuntarily, Mikkel's heart began to thud, and he quickened his pace. His fingers flicked to the weapons belt concealed beneath his heavy, worn overcoat; the cool touch of steel calmed his nerves faintly.

A twig snapped behind him. Mikkel spun, whipping the blade from his belt and holding it out in front of him with a clumsy grip.

"Who's there?" he barked into the darkness. No reply. "I'm armed. Come out. Show yourself!"

Somewhere in the dusky light, to the right of the path, was an inky shape that looked strange against the backdrop of grey leaves and trunks. Mikkel swallowed, his tongue leaden.

"I can see you. Come out now and you won't come to any harm."

He couldn't quite make it out, but he could've sworn he heard a stifled laugh from the shadow lurking in the bushes. This confused him. If it were a highwayman or some bandit waiting for him, he would probably be dead by now, his throat slit and his money already spent. But the person currently watching him made no move to come out from their hiding place.

"What do you want? If you're here for my money, you'll have to come and get it." Mikkel made an attempt to sound braver than he felt.

Once more, he heard a snigger from the bushes.

"What's so funny?" he demanded. "I'm armed. I could gut you and leave you dead in some ditch."

A voice came from the darkness, paralysing him where he stood.

"I didn't want to have to do this, but ..."

The shadow suddenly sprung forward. Mikkel had time to register the glint of the fading sunlight on steel before a long, wide blade was pressed against his neck.

A young woman dressed in only a thin silk nightdress was stood in front of him, grasping the hilt of a broadsword with white knuckles. That very same sword was now biting into the soft flesh of his throat. The woman's hair was an angry red halo that framed a viciously beautiful face, and although her eyes were narrowed, Mikkel could see they were a deep shade of violet. Stunned by both the beauty of his attacker and the fact that a sword was held against his throat, Mikkel said nothing, his eyes wide. But something about the appearance of the woman rang a distant bell in his mind. He was sure he had seen her before, but he couldn't remember where. Then he noticed the heavy gold ring on her finger engraved with the royal emblem, and it hit him.

"Princess Sigrun?"

The princess also looked taken aback, as if she hadn't expected him to recognise her.

Then her brows furrowed and her pretty lips curled back in a snarl.

"Y-your highness, if I may ask, what are you doing out here? And looking like – dressed as – holding a ..." Mikkel attempted feebly to describe the vision before him.

"Wouldn't you like to know, peasant!" This time, her lips twisted into a wicked smile.

At the sight of the princess' smile, a thought hit Mikkel between the eyes. He remembered where he'd seen the princess' picture before – on wanted posters dotted all over the city. He'd been trying to sell one of his sheep to an arrogant noble when he'd seen the poster. The first thing that had drawn him in was the number printed in bold beneath the picture of the grinning woman – a reward with enough money for Mikkel to keep his farm as long as he lived, and longer.

 _Finally,_ thought Mikkel, _a stroke of luck._

As if she sensed his thoughts, Sigrun tightened her grip on the sword.

"Oh no you don't. You're not getting away alive – or at least without several missing digits."

Mikkel gulped. Maybe not, then.


	3. Chapter 3

**Tuuri**

The sun beat down on the two travellers' heads as they walked through the forest.

Emil was keeping up a steady stream of nonsense, and for once Tuuri didn't have the energy to tell him to be quiet.

They had been walking for at least half the day, but the path still didn't give way to a road or a river.

After the incident with the wolves, Tuuri was very doubtful of the young knight's skills, but he had asked where she was headed and when she had told him, Emil had insisted that she let him accompany her – for "protection". Although Tuuri highly doubted he would be useful, she had to admit she didn't have much of a clue where she was going, and Emil claimed to know the path that led to the village. At the very least his sword would come in handy. He didn't seem to have any malicious intentions, and Tuuri felt she could take him down if need be.

Whilst she followed the knight, the contents of Onni's letter floated through her mind. She gnawed at her bottom lip until she tasted blood. Onni had said the disturbance was nothing to worry about, but why did he want Lalli looking after her if there was nothing wrong? Tuuri was fed up of trying to see the bright side of things. Onni only ever wrote to her if there was something wrong, and this time was probably no exception. Only, she hadn't heard of any trouble brewing in the kingdom – at least, no trouble of the political sort.

Back in Kerun, when she had lived with Onni, the local men would always discuss about the latest scandal with some noble and his mistress whenever they thought Tuuri couldn't hear them. It was improper to mention these sorts of things in front of a lady, even if she was the little sister of the village druid. Even back then Tuuri had noticed the difference between her and the other village girls. All they cared about was getting married to a rich soldier, settling down in a quaint country house, and having children. Meanwhile, she dreamed of travelling the world, speaking a hundred languages to people she'd only read about in the books that were hidden behind the wooden panel in the chapel, eating food that didn't taste like wheat-dust and sleeping under the stars.

Onni, of course, as soon as she'd dared mention this to him, had given her a reproachful look that said never to speak of the outside world again. It hadn't escaped Tuuri's notice that he bolted the door to her room that night.

And yet... if Onni was letting her cross the woods on her own, even if she was meeting her cousin, whatever was troubling him was most likely serious.

 _Don't worry yourself sick about something you don't understand,_ Tuuri told herself. _If it's a druid thing Lalli might be able to provide some information when you get to his village. And besides, Onni is the strongest person you know. Whatever it is, he can handle it._

She was yanked out of her head when her ragged yellow slipper caught on a tree root and she crashed to the ground, landing hard on her shoulder.

Emil whipped around, hand on his sword, then noticed Tuuri lying breathless on the path.

"Oh. It's you. Sorry. I thought it was a – are you alright?"

Tuuri grunted and hauled herself to her feet, rolling her ankle gingerly. "I'm fine. Thanks for helping."

Ignoring this obvious barb, Emil tilted his head, concern in his eyes. "Are you sure? Because we've still got a long way to go, and you can't keep on like this with a bad ankle."

Tuuri shook her head and strode past him, trying to hide her limp. "I'm fine. I can walk, see? Lalli will fix me when we get to his village. How much further is it?"

Emil watched her for a second, then continued walking, keeping pace with Tuuri's uneven gait. "About another two or three leagues. Hopefully we'll be there before sunrise."

Tuuri stopped dead in her tracks. "We're travelling through the night? No, oh no. We can't. Haven't you heard the stories of people going into the woods at night and never coming back?"

"As a matter of fact, I haven't, but that's far beside the point. They're old fairy tales made up to scare people. Surely you don't believe that pile of old manure?"

Tuuri folded her arms across her chest. "Well my brother's a druid. I think he'd know what's safe and what's not, and he told me to stay far away from the woods at night. Yet here we are – it's almost dusk and we're leagues and leagues from civilisation. Are you honestly trying to get us both killed?"

"Well I don't see you putting forward any suggestions that will help us move any faster. After all, it's your fault that you tripped, and now you're just going to slow us down even more." Emil put his hands on his hips and flicked hair from his eyes. "We can either keep walking, and reach your cousin's house by sunrise, or we can walk back the way we came and arrive at Kerun tomorrow night. Either way, there isn't a city or village in the near radius. We're going to have to travel in the dark, whether you like it or not."

Tuuri glared at Emil, who gave her a smug smile in return, then sighed and uncrossed her arms. He was right. They were in the middle of nowhere, and they might as well cover some distance towards Lalli's village before nightfall.

"Fine. But we stop and make a camp when it gets dark. I want to get to Lalli in one piece. And remember," Tuuri turned on her heel and called back to Emil. "You're going to have to tell him if I die."

"If he's anywhere near as melodramatic as you, I wouldn't dare." muttered Emil, as he trudged wearily after Tuuri.

 **Sigrun**

The man who called himself Mikkel Madsen sat on the log across from her, his hank of meat hanging limp in his hand. Sigrun watched him with narrowed eyes as his gaze slid to hers and then darted away. Then he brought his pheasant wing to his mouth, opened his mouth, shut his mouth and lowered the wing again.

After watching this routine unfold for the fifth time that evening, Sigrun sighed and leapt up from her log. Mikkel jumped, the orange light from the campfire making his eyes look even wider than they were.

"For goodness' sake, Madsen. Stop twitching around like a dead rabbit. You can trust me. What makes you think I want to hurt you in any way?"

Mikkel raised a thick blond eyebrow. "You told me earlier you were going to cut off my earlobes and force-feed them to me."

Sigrun stopped her pacing and looked at Mikkel. "Really? I said that?"

The man nodded silently. Sigrun stroked her chin thoughtfully.

"Huh."

She paced around the campfire a few more times, swinging her sword loosely by her side.

"Listen here, Madsen. I know I said I was going to -"

"Cut off my earlobes and force-feed them to me."

"Yes. That. Well, I'm not going to do that; I honestly had no intention of ever force-feeding you your own earlobes, nor lopping off your toes, or making a dress from your intestines or whatever else I said. Point is, I don't want to kill you. In an ideal world, neither of us would be sitting here now. But this isn't an ideal world, and here we both are. I don't want to get caught and dragged back to that Hell-forsaken castle, and I'm willing to bet you don't want to die. So, to prevent both of these things happening, I want to reach a compromise. What is it that you want most in the world? Adventure? A nice wife – or husband, whatever floats your boat. Land? A goat, or sheep or whatever it is you farmer people like?"

"Money would be good."

Sigrun winced. "Ah. I was hoping you wouldn't ask for that. You see, when I escaped from that miserable tower, I didn't have the time to grab any cash to take with me. But I'm sure I could rob someone for you, if you really want some dosh –"

Mikkel was opening his mouth to say that robbing someone really wouldn't be necessary when Sigrun's hand clamped over his face. He let out a squawk, and clawed at her wrist, but her hand wouldn't budge. He was about to shout for help when he noticed her expression: alert, wary, and, most worryingly, fear.

"Uh, Madsen? I think we've got company."


	4. Chapter 4

**Emil**

High above his head, wind gently shook the trees, making them hiss and spit as the two travellers passed. Night had fallen a few hours ago, and already the sky was inky black, pinpricked by bright stars. Moonlight caressed Emil's hair, turning it pale as bone. The evening was warm and relatively still, and Emil set his mind to the future as they stumped onwards.

Although he missed the comfort of his home, he was glad of the freedom that had come with his knighthood. Just the memory of his aunt and uncle's faces as he ascended the steps towards the altar in the Grand Palace summoned a smile onto his lips. Alright, maybe being a knight wasn't his job of choice, but Emil knew he was incredibly lucky. Most of the people in the country were farmers or traders, both of which seemed to him tedious and tough. At least he could help people – and get paid. The only problem was, Emil was struggling to find someone to help. A damsel in distress would be his first port of call, and he had sort of rescued one already, but he wasn't sure whether Tuuri counted. She wasn't particularly damsel-like, or in much distress either.

He glanced over at the young woman, who was still desperately trying to hide the pain from her twisted ankle.

She noticed him and glowered.

Emil looked away, concealing his smirk, and focused on keeping to the path.

An hour later, Tuuri stopped abruptly, and leant against a tree with one hand. Emil, grateful for the excuse to rest, planted his hands on his knees and panted.

"How much further?" Tuuri gasped.

"A few more hours, I think."

Tuuri groaned, and slumped against the tree's broad trunk. Emil could barely make her out in the darkness.

"Can we rest for a while? Please? I'm too tired to cover any more distance without a rest."

Emil considered this for a moment. "Alright. We need to find a stream so we can refill my flask. – I'm nearly dying of thirst."

Tuuri stood up. "Lead the way."

Emil turned around a few times, gazing up at the stars to get his bearings, and then gestured between two trees to their left. "I remember there being a river that branches off north of here. Hopefully there'll be some sort of tributary somewhere here."

With the darkness pressing all around them, only broken by starlight from above, Emil felt alone and trapped. Tuuri's ragged breath grounded him a little; irregular puffs and pants coming from the gloom to his right. As he walked he held out a hand in front of him, fumbling blindly for the cool touch of bark.

After a few minutes of walking, Emil heard the quiet laugh of running water in the distance.

He was reaching out to nudge Tuuri when a blood-curdling battle cry pierced the air. He froze, heart pounding, clutching Tuuri's arm tightly.

"What was that? Was it a bird? It was a bird, wasn't it? Do you think it could've been some sort of bird, or a – a creature of some sort? I –"

An animal growl rang out, followed by another war cry and a yelp. Tuuri started running blindly through the trees, dragging Emil along by the arm.

As they ran, Tuuri yelled something at Emil that was twirled away by the wind rushing past them.

"What?"

"Your sword, Emil! Give me your sword!"

They burst into a clearing lit by a smouldering campfire just as Emil wrenched his sword free of its scabbard and handed it to Tuuri.

On the opposite side of the small clearing, two figures were standing, facing the trees that circled the space. As Emil and Tuuri crashed through the dry undergrowth, one of the figures, a tall, scantily clad woman, whirled round, eyes wide. Emil didn't fail to notice the huge, blood-splattered sword in her hands. Tuuri shouted a warning, and the woman turned back around just as something huge and dark lunged at her neck.

The man standing next to her fell back in surprise as the beast – what looked like some sort of bear – snapped empty air inches from the young woman's throat.

Tuuri sprinted past Emil, sword flashing, and took up position next to the red-haired warrior. The broad-shouldered man scrambled to his feet and caught Emil's eye, raising his eyebrows in an expression that told Emil he had just as much of a clue about what was going on as he did.

Tuuri and the warrior's blades sang as they slashed at the bear-like beast; it reared up, blood matting its fur, teeth and claws shining as it roared in pain. Still, it continued its attack, swiping with monstrous paws at the two young women. One blow caught the second woman on her wrist and she staggered back, cursing. Emil rushed forwards, catching the young woman as she stumbled. She flashed him a wicked grin, and Emil almost dropped her.

A few feet away, the bear lunged forward, claws raised. Tuuri took the opportunity and ducked under its paw, slotting her sword neatly into the exposed fur of its neck. The bear whimpered, and slid sideways to the ground.

There was silence, apart from the laboured breathing of the bear that slowly faded away, and Tuuri's gasps.

Then, the young woman extricated herself from Emil's clumsy grip, dusted herself down, and extended a bleeding hand.

"Well hello, young knight. Glad you and your courageous little fluffy-headed friend got here when you did, otherwise me and Madsen would be goners. I'm Sigrun. How do you do?"


End file.
